He fell on the berth as she came all over him. His claws were sharp. He was careful not to dig them into her flesh. He would be careful enough. He knew what she wanted at the moment. He was supposed to grab some sleep. She had actually advised him to do just that but she happened to be that who wouldn't avail him. He couldn't push her away. He couldn't ignore her. He couldn't resist. She was more than what she seemed to be. She wasn't only beautiful but enchanting. He wasn't so disciplined to ignore a lady of such make. And of course he did love her. He was actually confused. He didn't know who loves who more amongst the two of them. He wasn't sure if he did love her than she loved him or vice versa. But one thing he was damn sure about was the fact that he could kill for her. What had made him subdue the crazy Poseidon because of her. Hw would do everything to protect her. He would always be there for her. Those were the promises he did make to himself. And the first word he had said, he had no idea why he had said it. 

      She felt her lips with his nimbling. He quaked beneath her. Her taunting tits were ripping off his undauntedness. He knew that there were quite the numbers of things he would keep up with. He had no idea what she had done to the bleeding part of his body. It no longer bled. Was it when she did ride him or when she kissed? He couldn't arrive at a sane conclusion. Takes one who who's sane to think sane. He was no longer sane. Nemo day quod non habet. He simply couldn't give what he didn't have. And she was about to start another ride. He wasn't indifferent. He wouldn't stop her from ridding. She could do whatever she wished with him. She could decide to mar or make him. She did own him. She was the best thing he could ever think of. He was glad that he met her and they were together despite all the odds. Even when they used to be in the sky, in the arena of the god, he would spy her and trace the sway of her butts with his eerie eyes. Hell! They all belong to him at that moment. 

       She played her tongue skillfully in his mouth as he sucked their nectar. He wasn't going to give in easily. He was going to fight the urge and taunt her in return. She was simply taunting him. He was used to it. He wasn't sure if she would adapt. He caught her lips again and ploughed them harder. Twas his turn to be generous. He had been a farmer all his life and he did have to proof that. He needed no yoke or oxen to plough. His tongue and lips were the best machine for the task. She said something he couldn't make meaning of as he ploughed her deeper. Her land had been irrigated. He needed to plant some crops and harvest them immediately. He had no idea how to go about that but of course he was already on it. Even if he would need an alakazam to achieve it he would go for it. He would make his needs met. He bit her lower lip gently and moved dramatically under her. Her eyes were closed. She was deep into the abyss of the system. He was reaping what he had sown. His pleasure had watered the kiss.

      He turned her over and got on her. Twas the time for the stray reaper to commence a hideous duty. He would catch her soul and toss it to the realm of passion. He knew she wouldn't have qualms about that. He ploughed her lips again as his erection brushed the tip of her well. She quaked easily and splitted her arms. She gave in to the reaper. He was done ploughing. He needed new options and new codes to adopt. He had been up for the business since forever and was acquainted with quite the numbers of things. He fiddle with her neck. Traced his tongue stylishly across the borders of her neck. She wasn't responding. She was still. He didn't know what that was for. Then she held his head again and sucked pleasure out of his mouth. She wouldn't let go, but he did taunt her again. His erection brushed the tip of the well again as she was left with no choice but to let him go. That was the wicked spin. He resumed his fiddling and travelled to her shoulders. She smelled like myrrh. She never quit smelling thus. Naturally, it shouldn't be tasted,but he couldn't help it. She was tasty.

        He travelled inwardly. He was a tourist now. The time of a farmer and the reaper were gone. He would tour. And he was on it. He removed the piece of cloth hanging over the voluptuous boobs and sucked the two. He was a glutton. He wasn't actually one. There were quite the numbers of things he was glutinous about and the dean of them all were the tits. He could never ignore there call. He was never filled. As a tourist, he did see two grape fruits and did want to have a bite. He sucked the first. His hand on the second. He could suck them one after the other but he was afraid that they would no longer be there. He needed to have the best of them at the twinkling of an eye. He needed to torture her and taunt her with the tits that had been taunting him. He bit the nipples gently and traced his tongue across the bridge of the grapes. It tickled her and she quaked as though the berth would collapse. Twas a kinda punishment she enjoyed. He met her mouth again and was on his knees over her.

      She bit his lips in rage of pleasure while he fiddle with her tongues. He removed his hood, what looked like trouser-skirt. His erection stood tall peering curiously what the emergency was for. He drove the curious peg into the well to fetch the gold he had gone on a tour for. His hands were on her boobs as he rode her mercilessly. She needed no mercy as she swayed rhythmically to rhythm of his erection. He was inside and outside her. His hands were squeezing the tits as though there were some useless tissue paper. Never again would they taunt him.

         Amidst the pleasure, he looked into her eyes and was shocked. She had no retina anymore. Twas a Wolf's that was there. At that moment, her eyes looked like a Wolf's. Had she become a werewol too? Through sex? He would find out maybe 1 million years later. Pending the time he was done riding her and fetching the gold. She was on him now. Her large butts were all his erection. He would die.

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